![Grayson Morningkill [Cliath] [Silver Fangs] Empty](https://2img.net/i/empty.gif)
Character development:
Name: Grayson Morningkill
Concept:
Age: 17
Breed: Homid
Auspice: Theurge (Waxing Moon)
Tribe: Silver Fangs (House Wyrmfoe)
Rank: Cliath (1)
Backgrounds:
Pure Breed: 5
Resources: 1
Ancestors: 1
Spirit Heritage - Moon Spirits: 3
Rites: 1 (Rite of Talisman Dedication)
Merits (must provide page of the merits you wanna choose):
Self-Confident (5 pt. Merit) (W20Core p. 476)
Notable Heritage (2 pt. Merit) (W20Core p. 480)
Language - Russian (1 pt. Merit) (W20Core p. 475)
Flaws (must provide page of the flaws you wanna choose):
Curiosity (2 pt. Flaw) (W20 Core p. 477)
Insane Ancestor - Jacob Morningkill (1 pt. Flaw) (W20Core p. 484
Harano Prone (4 pt. Flaw) (W20Core p. 484)
(I don't know where to put this, but I would like to put 4 Freebies into Gnosis and 3 into Willpower)
Character Story:
Grayson was born under the waning crescent moon on the 8th of January 1989 in Vermont, within the borders of the North Country Protectorate ruled over by House Wyrmfoe and its King, Jonas Albrecht. The first and only son to Aaron Morningkill and Alicia Saint Claire to this date. His birth was an auspicious one, for when the two Shamans of the Celestial Lodge of the Sun and the Celestial Lodge of the Moon went to perform the usual Rites on the newborn Fang, they came to see that the newborn would not only breed true. Indeed, when they looked at Grayson, the image of the Moon sprang into their minds. The boy bore the markings of the Moon, a Crescent Moon birthmark on his left shoulder.
Following traditions of nobility from the medieval era, Grayson grew up surrounded mostly by kinfolk on the Morningkill estate away from Garou business until his seventh birthday, at which point he began receiving instruction in swordplay, military strategy, Russian, Garou, Silver Fang and Spirit Lore - all sorts of things that would prepare him for his First Change and everything that would come afterwards. As he grew up and came into contact with people aside from his mentors, close family members and kinfolk servants, he also came to see the reality he had only seen before in nightmares: Sycophants vying for his favour with only their personal interests in mind, Trueborn of all ages and ranks, afflicted with mental sickness, and those who were suspicious of their Prince-to-be, expecting him to end up a Moon-thrall just as his Great-Grandfather, the late King Morningkill had.
Under the guidance of his Mentors, he continued to hone his skills as a warrior, a scholar, and most importantly a leader. The burden he knew he yet had to bear fully was heavy on his mind, amidst all the suspicion, doubt and fear he could virtually sense lingering within a not insignificant portion of King Albrecht’s court. Despite the adversity he found himself confronted with daily, he never considered giving up even once. He had the tools to one day fulfill all the expectations set before him and to help rescue his Tribe from falling to Harano fully, and to lead it back to its former glory.
A couple of weeks after Grayson’s sixteenth birthday, the kin-fetch which had been bound to him at the moment of his birth had warned his family that his First Change could happen at any time now. Thus, it was uneventful when it happened, with several experienced Garou around him, able to restrain in whatever capacity it was required. Not that Theurges are known for their particularly violent First Changes. In Grayson’s case, he had stared into a mirror, changed, and promptly slipped into the Penumbra shortly after, where he spoke to the many spirits of the Sept for the first time. A great feast was held to celebrate the kin’s First Change, and he was now trained for his future Rite of Passage.
For his Rite of Passage, Grayson was dispatched to prowl the seemingly endless woods, with seemingly no goal. He was not allowed to drink, sleep or eat. In fact, it was obligatory for his success that he always kept moving. He did so, even if it meant that he would collapse sooner or later. When he drew closer to the end of his reserves of energy, he found himself arriving in front of a large wolf, its eyes the richest shade of blue, and its fur the most beautiful silvery white he had ever seen before. The wolf simply looked at him calmly, almost as if waiting for him to do something. Grayson took the silence as a cue that this was not actually a Trueborn Silver Fang. A Lupus kin maybe? Unlikely, they kept those within the reserves usually. Yet, Grayson felt something. A sense of… familiarity? Closeness even?
As if guided by an invisible force, he carefully reached out with his right hand. The wolf slightly lowered its head, and when Grayson rested his palm on the wolf’s forehead, a wave of blurry visions overwhelmed him. He was no longer in the forest, not the one he had entered anyway. He was in his Lupus form, running with a large pack of wolves whose pelts were somehow even whiter than his own. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt as if he was at home. His spiritual home. The Mother Country, Russia. He ran with the wolves for hours and hours, his own stamina suddenly seeming to be almost without end, until they finally reached their destination. Or rather, their enemy. A mythical beast of the Wyrm beyond description. Together, the pack took out the Wyrmish beast without casualties of their own. Only when the fight was over did Grayson notice an oversized, blue Falcon soaring across the sky. He circled around the pack of wolves before landing in front of Grayson, letting loose a predatory screech. It was -the- Falcon, totem of the Silver Fangs, who had been a spectator all along, and came to welcome a new Lord of House Wyrmfoe into the Tribe proper. After telling the Galliards his tale, Grayson earned himself the deed name 'Snow Prince', and elevation to the Rank of Cliath.
With a need and desire to collect experiences outside of Court, Grayson has moved to Dillimore to escape the senile Elders, sycophants and those who would intrigue against him. Here, he wishes to forge a legacy of his own.
Last edited by Caligula on 9/2/2023, 21:43; edited 1 time in total (Reason for editing : 3 Freebies into WP instead of 4, chosen Rite for Rites Background is the Rite of Talisman Dedication.)
Name: Grayson Morningkill
Concept:
Age: 17
Breed: Homid
Auspice: Theurge (Waxing Moon)
Tribe: Silver Fangs (House Wyrmfoe)
Rank: Cliath (1)
Backgrounds:
Pure Breed: 5
Resources: 1
Ancestors: 1
Spirit Heritage - Moon Spirits: 3
Rites: 1 (Rite of Talisman Dedication)
Merits (must provide page of the merits you wanna choose):
Self-Confident (5 pt. Merit) (W20Core p. 476)
Notable Heritage (2 pt. Merit) (W20Core p. 480)
Language - Russian (1 pt. Merit) (W20Core p. 475)
Flaws (must provide page of the flaws you wanna choose):
Curiosity (2 pt. Flaw) (W20 Core p. 477)
Insane Ancestor - Jacob Morningkill (1 pt. Flaw) (W20Core p. 484
Harano Prone (4 pt. Flaw) (W20Core p. 484)
(I don't know where to put this, but I would like to put 4 Freebies into Gnosis and 3 into Willpower)
Character Story:
Grayson was born under the waning crescent moon on the 8th of January 1989 in Vermont, within the borders of the North Country Protectorate ruled over by House Wyrmfoe and its King, Jonas Albrecht. The first and only son to Aaron Morningkill and Alicia Saint Claire to this date. His birth was an auspicious one, for when the two Shamans of the Celestial Lodge of the Sun and the Celestial Lodge of the Moon went to perform the usual Rites on the newborn Fang, they came to see that the newborn would not only breed true. Indeed, when they looked at Grayson, the image of the Moon sprang into their minds. The boy bore the markings of the Moon, a Crescent Moon birthmark on his left shoulder.
Following traditions of nobility from the medieval era, Grayson grew up surrounded mostly by kinfolk on the Morningkill estate away from Garou business until his seventh birthday, at which point he began receiving instruction in swordplay, military strategy, Russian, Garou, Silver Fang and Spirit Lore - all sorts of things that would prepare him for his First Change and everything that would come afterwards. As he grew up and came into contact with people aside from his mentors, close family members and kinfolk servants, he also came to see the reality he had only seen before in nightmares: Sycophants vying for his favour with only their personal interests in mind, Trueborn of all ages and ranks, afflicted with mental sickness, and those who were suspicious of their Prince-to-be, expecting him to end up a Moon-thrall just as his Great-Grandfather, the late King Morningkill had.
Under the guidance of his Mentors, he continued to hone his skills as a warrior, a scholar, and most importantly a leader. The burden he knew he yet had to bear fully was heavy on his mind, amidst all the suspicion, doubt and fear he could virtually sense lingering within a not insignificant portion of King Albrecht’s court. Despite the adversity he found himself confronted with daily, he never considered giving up even once. He had the tools to one day fulfill all the expectations set before him and to help rescue his Tribe from falling to Harano fully, and to lead it back to its former glory.
A couple of weeks after Grayson’s sixteenth birthday, the kin-fetch which had been bound to him at the moment of his birth had warned his family that his First Change could happen at any time now. Thus, it was uneventful when it happened, with several experienced Garou around him, able to restrain in whatever capacity it was required. Not that Theurges are known for their particularly violent First Changes. In Grayson’s case, he had stared into a mirror, changed, and promptly slipped into the Penumbra shortly after, where he spoke to the many spirits of the Sept for the first time. A great feast was held to celebrate the kin’s First Change, and he was now trained for his future Rite of Passage.
For his Rite of Passage, Grayson was dispatched to prowl the seemingly endless woods, with seemingly no goal. He was not allowed to drink, sleep or eat. In fact, it was obligatory for his success that he always kept moving. He did so, even if it meant that he would collapse sooner or later. When he drew closer to the end of his reserves of energy, he found himself arriving in front of a large wolf, its eyes the richest shade of blue, and its fur the most beautiful silvery white he had ever seen before. The wolf simply looked at him calmly, almost as if waiting for him to do something. Grayson took the silence as a cue that this was not actually a Trueborn Silver Fang. A Lupus kin maybe? Unlikely, they kept those within the reserves usually. Yet, Grayson felt something. A sense of… familiarity? Closeness even?
As if guided by an invisible force, he carefully reached out with his right hand. The wolf slightly lowered its head, and when Grayson rested his palm on the wolf’s forehead, a wave of blurry visions overwhelmed him. He was no longer in the forest, not the one he had entered anyway. He was in his Lupus form, running with a large pack of wolves whose pelts were somehow even whiter than his own. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt as if he was at home. His spiritual home. The Mother Country, Russia. He ran with the wolves for hours and hours, his own stamina suddenly seeming to be almost without end, until they finally reached their destination. Or rather, their enemy. A mythical beast of the Wyrm beyond description. Together, the pack took out the Wyrmish beast without casualties of their own. Only when the fight was over did Grayson notice an oversized, blue Falcon soaring across the sky. He circled around the pack of wolves before landing in front of Grayson, letting loose a predatory screech. It was -the- Falcon, totem of the Silver Fangs, who had been a spectator all along, and came to welcome a new Lord of House Wyrmfoe into the Tribe proper. After telling the Galliards his tale, Grayson earned himself the deed name 'Snow Prince', and elevation to the Rank of Cliath.
With a need and desire to collect experiences outside of Court, Grayson has moved to Dillimore to escape the senile Elders, sycophants and those who would intrigue against him. Here, he wishes to forge a legacy of his own.
Last edited by Caligula on 9/2/2023, 21:43; edited 1 time in total (Reason for editing : 3 Freebies into WP instead of 4, chosen Rite for Rites Background is the Rite of Talisman Dedication.)